Well, it wasn’t really a round table — it was rectangular.
And, strangely enough, no knights — bold or otherwise, though one would think if someone is knighted he must be bold, yes? — or maidens magically appeared when we opened our bottle of mead last night.
I do have a theory about that: it may be we didn’t drink enough mead to be seeing knights and maidens of old . . . or pink elephants . . .
But the sweet mead was absolutely delicious. We sipped it with a seafood dinner, accompanied by the music of The Medieval Baebes and a crackling blaze in the fireplace. . . An enchanting evening even if Sir Launcelot and company didn’t show up . . .
This particular mead is very much a liquor, with 16 percent alcohol and not meant to be drunk in vast quantities — though, what alcoholic beverage is? Neither of us drank more than 4 ounces of it, so we have lots left over for the next time . . . and who knows, maybe the Round Table crowd will put in an appearance then.
I’m thinking the mead drunk by the denizens of the Round Table and the Vikings before them and others was not as sweet as the beverage we drank last night . . . but for one brief moment, I imagined what it might have been like sitting in a castle with the knightly crowd . . . and I thought I heard their laughter echoing through the ages . . .